Planned Parenthood
by KissTheBoy7
Summary: It's safe to assume that Roger doesn't know how to shop for a newborn but Mark foolishly let's him tag along on his shopping spree anyways. Marker. Mark/Roger. Baby shopping fluff for Nikki. Happy birthday! Oneshot.


**A/N: Yaaaaaay it's Nikki's birthday! (or the day before :L) And I wrote her fluff! And it's Marker! Yaaaaaay. I don't think any of this comes as a surprise. xD Hopefully she enjoys this, though, because otherwise I doubt I would be writing baby daddy Marker… Still, it's cute. Happy birthday friend. :D I miss youuuu.**

Disclaimer: _I'm afraid that not only do I not own RENT, but I don't own this idea._

**Planned Parenthood**

"How are you supposed to tell if these things work if they're packaged in _plastic_?"

"You're not supposed to check, Rog, you're just supposed to take their word for it- what are you doing? You can't just do that! Roger-"

"Oh, who cares? I'm just going to-" The guitarist poked his tongue out in frustration, finally succeeding in tearing the packaging open, a neon blue pacifier falling into his palm. He wrinkled his nose as he rubbed his thumb over it. "Ew. Why do babies like these things?"

Mark resisted the uncontrollable urge to laugh, biting on his lip as he watched his boyfriend pop the pacifier into his mouth and spread his arms as if presenting himself, grinning around it. "Now we're going to have to buy it you know."

"Fuck that. We can just put it back in, no one will know-" He spit the toy back into his palm and made a face, attempting to force it back into the warped plastic and torn cardboard, and Mark just shook his head in amusement.

"We could tape it," he played along, fiddling with his sleeves. Roger rolled his eyes.

"Then we'll have to buy the tape, dumbass," he snorted, shaking his head. Mark arched an eyebrow, his eyes saying what his mouth was too polite to form. _I'm the dumbass?_

In hindsight, letting Roger come baby shopping with him had been a stupid blunder in the first place. Deciding to raise a _baby_ with Roger, actually, had been the peak of his idiocy. But Maureen had said that she wasn't going to be able to handle two, and Mark had always wanted to be a daddy someday. Why not? Why shouldn't he?

Of course, being practically married to Roger wasn't very helpful in this situation. The moment he'd broken the news about the twins his roommate had gone into a frenzy, baby-proofing everything in the loft- Mark still didn't know where he'd even gotten all of the materials necessary for this, nor could he open any of the cupboards anymore- and preparing the spare room, which had once been Mark's before they had given up and just moved all of his shit into Roger's, in record time.

It was probably best that he didn't ask just how many of the bottles and diapers lying around had been stolen. The same went for the crib- although Mark had a sneaking suspicion that that had been found in a dumpster, and he reminded himself again to buy a bottle of disinfectant to douse it in.

"… What are you doing?" Belatedly he realized that Roger was strutting down the aisle, pushing the cart and humming as he looked around, fingering miscellaneous items and tossing them in seemingly randomly. He scurried to catch up, earning a snort.

"Calm _down._ I'm just getting the necessities." His calloused fingers wrapped around a blue rubber teething ring and he scrutinized it for a moment before chucking it into the cart. Mark groaned, pulling it out to examine it.

"Roger, I don't really think we have the money for any of this… How is _this_ a necessity? It's not going to grow teeth for months!" Exasperated, he attempted to put it back and found his wrist captured by Roger's large hand. The guitarist pouted at him, prompting him to roll his eyes- but Mark was a sucker for Roger and he sighed, dropping it back into the cart, making Roger beam and lean in for a hasty kiss before he managed to pull away.

"We're not making out in the baby aisle, Roger," he sighed, rubbing his tingling lips. He knew that his face was probably absolutely aflame but there was no use in pointing it out.

"Aww… Why not?" he whined, bumping his shoulder as they rolled down the aisle. Without even looking he snatched a Sippy cup and threw it into the cart. Mark shook his head.

"We're here to get _formula_ and baby powder, Roger, not toys… And not to get it on in the back of the store!"

"Why the hell not? I thought that was the point of this trip."

He should have known this was going to happen. He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes and praying for patience. When you were dating Roger Davis, you needed more than what seemed humanly possible. "Roger, do you understand that we're going to have a baby soon?"

"Of course I do! I got it a crib!" Roger scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "I think I know it better than you do, Cohen."

"I really doubt that… Do you even have any experience taking care of a baby?" He wondered why he hadn't thought to ask him this before but it hadn't seemed important- it seemed predetermined that Mark was going to be the stay at home mom while Roger scraped some cash together with his new band, or bartending, or however he chose to provide so long as he did.

At the very least he knew that he could do _that._

Roger faltered. "… Well- no. But-!" He looked somewhat desperate, trying to defend himself, but Mark had already held up a hand to silence him.

"Roger. I'm not saying you're not going to be a good dad… but- maybe you should leave this kinda stuff to me. At least until you learn. I have a bunch of nephews that I practically raised from infants, I know what I'm doing… I'll teach you. But it might take a while." He smiled, reaching up to tug at one of his overgrown curls affectionately.

"I can do it, Mark, I swear to god. I signed up for one of those class things," he wheedled, leaning into his touch, eyes glimmering hopefully. "I'm gonna learn how to change diapers and clean up baby puke and everything."

"Ten bucks says the first time it spits up on you you throw a fit," he snorted, ducking his head to disguise his laughter. Roger scowled, glaring down at the dirty linoleum.

"I will not… Unless it's my jacket-" Mark's amusement only made his frown deepen, defensive. "Hey! That's leather, do you know how expensive it is to clean leather?"

"Babies are expensive," Mark shrugged with a smile, beginning to pluck items out of the cart and place them back on the shelves. "We can't go spending more than we have to on it when we're already flat broke… We can spoil it when it's older and will actually appreciate it."

"… I guess." Morosely, Roger toed the ground and allowed his boyfriend to reverse all of his progress, still staring downwards. "… I just want it to like me, you know?"

"You're it's daddy, of course it's going to like you." Glancing up, Mark flashed a reassuring grin. "Especially if you're as much of a sucker for it as I think you're going to be."

There was a pause as he finished putting all of the items away in the correct places, and then Roger blurted, "How is this going to work, then? Is one of us going to have to be the mom-?"

Mark very nearly choked, laughter bubbling up in his chest. "Do you see a vagina anywhere in this equation…? Besides Maureen's?"

"Well, that's going to get really confusing isn't it? What if they call for daddy and then we don't know which of us she wants?"

"Roger, it doesn't matter. He- or she- is going to have two parents who love them… Right?" Roger nodded helplessly, chewing his lip, his anxiety shining openly on his face. Mark nodded, having expected as much. "So we're both gonna be dads. We can like, number it if you want… I don't know. It's not like we'd be the first gay couple with a kid."

"I… guess." Roger nodded, slowly beginning to smile. He snatched the teething ring back off of the shelf when Mark wasn't looking and tossed it into the cart. "… Or I could train it to call you mommy just to fuck with you."

"Roger!" Mark swatted at him, unable to keep from laughing.

Yeah, maybe bringing Roger to the store with him was a bad idea… But he was going to be a great daddy someday.

And maybe just to humor him Mark would be a great mom.


End file.
